A Special Leap Day Memory

Today’s Leap Day is special as it marks the 10th anniversary of my being sworn into the bar. I am marking the occasion by sharing the story of that memorable day.

My father told me I had dreamed of becoming a lawyer since I was 5. I think that was due to my watching a lot of “Perry Mason.” During my interview with the Managing Partner of one of my eventual employers, he admitted that “Perry Mason” was his inspiration too! Scriptwriters could not have made this up.

I took the District of Columbia (DC) bar exam in July 1983. Four months later, I received a letter from the DC Bar Association telling me I failed to pass the exam by a slim margin – three and a half points. I resigned myself to taking the exam a second time at the end of February 1984, which was not a great prospect, given my aversion to studying.

I had passed the multiple-choice MBE but failed the essay-only DC test. I soon learned from a friend of a friend that there was an appellate process for those who failed the DC exam. The DC Bar Association provided an opportunity to review the exam and your answers at an appointed time, which occurred in December at the Georgetown University Law Center. I had three hours to review all the exam materials – the exam, the model answers, and my exam books. Based on this review, I had three weeks to prepare my appeal.

I showed up 30 minutes before the appointed hour, where I met a representative of BARBRI, the bar exam review company. My assignment from the BARBRI representative was to copy, word for word, one of the 16 exam questions. In return, I would receive the entire exam and the model answers in three days. Once I copied my assigned question, I spent the remaining time furiously copying as much of my blue books as possible. I copied the answers that received the fewest points. The theory was that you might get fewer additional points on the questions you answered best since there is little chance of obtaining a perfect score on any of the essays.

Preparing my appeal was torturous. All I needed was three and a half points. Fortunately, one of my responses added up to half a point more than I received, so I only needed three points. I worked through each of my answers, praying that the examiners would give me half a point here and there, out of sympathy, if nothing else. I submitted my petition for regrading ("appeal") in late January and quickly forgot about it. I had no idea whether I had a chance of winning the appeal.

Studying for the February exam was not going well. It was depressing and demoralizing to think I had to take it again. As the exam drew closer, my dread grew.

I received a letter from the DC Bar in the first week of February. I did not open it immediately, assuming it was my admission ticket to take the exam. It was not something I wanted to see. I opened it several hours after getting home. Peering inside the envelope, I saw the two checks I had sent with my application to take the exam. My immediate thought was that my application to take the exam was rejected for some reason. My anger at the bureaucrats of the DC Bar started to grow as I instantly pictured the pain of going to the DC Clerk's office and begging them to let me take the test.

I opened the enclosed letter and read, "Congratulations …" I passed the DC Bar exam! Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that the excellent bureaucrats at the DC Bar would have been thoughtful enough to see if I had applied to retake the test and, in finding my application, take my checks and include them in the happy letter. Such outstanding public servants!

The formal oath of office ceremony was in December for everyone who passed the test. Now that I had passed the exam, I was instructed to come to the Office of the Clerk of the District of Columbia Court of Appeals at my convenience to be sworn in. Given the strange process I had gone through and the fact that I did not intend to practice law, the perfect date came to me: Leap Day – Wednesday, February 29, 1984.

I went alone to the Court that day and found the Clerk's office. It was a large room with a public counter in an L-shape. Two people were in the room. The first was a heavy-set DC police officer wearing his uniform and hat. He was speaking with another man behind the counter. This person was the star of the show. He was in his mid to late thirties, approximately 5'8" tall, with a slight build. He had long, wavy hair below his shoulders dyed a dark blonde. His eyes were green. He wore dark purple pants and a lavender shirt open at the chest to reveal several gold chains. He also had gold earrings. He was an unusual sight, especially in the conservative atmosphere of the Courthouse in 1984. He was the Clerk, or at least my Clerk.

I presented my letter showing I had passed the bar. He had me sign some papers. With my papers in hand, the Clerk stepped back from the counter. He crossed his right leg in front of his left, placed his hands behind his back, and pronounced, "Please repeat after me." I must have appeared quite foolish at that moment because I was stunned. I hesitated to speak. My brain was having trouble contemplating that this was the exalted moment. Three years of law school, countless hours of anguish in studying, law school graduation, taking the bar exam, and writing the appeal. It all came down to this. Somehow, I managed to take the oath.

I was giggling as I left the Clerk's office. They probably shook their heads, wondering what kind of fool was just sworn into the bar. Now, I was an official officer of the Court, and it was comical.

I am delighted I chose Leap Day to take the oath. Every four years, I get to recall the story and look at my framed certificate from the District of Columbia Court of Appeals. Please note the date of February 29, 1984, and smile.

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